


Forget the freak, you're just nature

by crookedspoon



Series: Tentatodd Week [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Dick Grayson is an Octomer, Escape, Interspecies Relationship(s), Jason Todd is a nerd, Kissing, M/M, MerMay 2019, POV Jason Todd, So much kissing, Tentacle Sex, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, What else is new, light on the tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-04-05 07:57:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19044358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedspoon/pseuds/crookedspoon
Summary: Jason spends one last night with Dick before taking him back to the ocean—their first real night together in a way.





	Forget the freak, you're just nature

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt "Jay getting fucked by octopus mer Dick? //Maybe with eggs if you feel like it? If you don't thats fine though :) I'm just in a egg mood!//" and Day 6 "eggs/breeding | undersea/mercreatures" at tentatoddweek. 
> 
> There is only a mention of eggs at the end, because Dick doesn't know how human anatomy works. I apologise for making this more plotty rather than porny and way longer than I originally intended. This thing wouldn't let me contain it in 500 words. I'll try to do better next time.
> 
> Shoutout to [maliciouslycreative](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maliciouslycreative/pseuds/maliciouslycreative) for the beta!

Jason thought he'd want nothing more than to rest the moment they got to the relative safety of their motel room. He'd been tense for hours and assumed that the moment the tension were to dissipate, he'd crash at once, no doubt about it.

But not quite so. As soon as the door clicks into the lock, a wave of relief hits him, sure, but Dick's weight against his side keeps him focused. Jason helps him toward the bed—it's a king size, with plenty of space for either of them and room to spare in between but the prospect of sharing it with Dick makes his cheeks warm regardless.

Dick must have sensed the change in Jason, because he stops unsteadily in front of the bed instead of letting himself sink down on it. His dark, curiously slitted eyes look feverish and his cheeks are flushed. Perhaps Jason should steer him toward the bathroom for a quick shower.

"Can I—" Dick starts weakly but then kicks off his shoes before waiting for an answer. They tumble across the scuff-marked floor and hit the wall on the opposite end. Next, Dick tugs the beanie from his still-damp hair. This time, Jason doesn't stop him. That in itself is a luxury. He just wants Dick to be comfortable now. He doesn't interfere. But a part of him winces when Dick shrugs off the jacket Jason had provided him with and it hits the floor with a squelch—the part of Jason that hadn't yet given up on it. So much for that. The gray t-shirt that still clings to Dick's frame follows. He throws it past Jason's shoulder where it lands with a soft wet thud in a dusty corner off to the side of the nightstand. Dick gives him no chance to admire him, however, because the next instant he's pulling Jason in for a kiss.

It's tentative at first, reminiscent of the hesitant kisses they had shared when they were both trying to teach and learn from the other. Jason doesn't pull away this time, doesn't murmur against Dick's lips that they can't, they'll be seen. Doesn't have to. Here, no one is around to keep an eye on them. With that knowledge seeping into him like water into hot sand, he curls his fingers into the damp strands at the nape of Dick's neck, trails a hand from his shoulders down the ridges of his spine to the small of his back, and deepens the kiss.

Dick lets out a contented sigh, then a low rumble. This is a kiss that spells out their full, unfiltered desire for each other, for once not curtailed by their fear of getting caught. Jason is taken with it, the greed, the longing, and the promise of fulfillment, so that it takes him a moment too long to notice that his lips are tingling.

They don't have much time, freedom from observation or no. It makes him grow bold. It makes him impatient. Too long—they've had to deny themselves for too long.

His hands grasp the waistband of the waterlogged tracksuit bottoms Dick is still wearing. The moment Jason yanks them down, Dick all but hops out of them and into Jason's embrace, limbs winding tight around him.

The warmth suffusing Jason erupts like a volcano, and the suddenness of it is staggering (or maybe it's the brunt of Dick's weight). Jason's knees buckle and he just barely manages to catch himself from falling on top of Dick.

He rolls them over, the floral print bedspread cool against the back of his neck and his arms, and he relishes it for as long as it lasts, the flush in his cheeks an overpowering counterpoint. He puffs out a breath and Dick's smile is dazzling, brightening the room more than the yellow light from the lamp overhead ever could. Jason's desire has him in a stranglehold. He still can't believe they did it.

There was a time when the lab had seemed a prison of forever. His contract forbade him to leave because of the sensitive nature of the research he was conducting, and Dick had been too valuable to ever be released. Sure, he could request to see Dick anytime he wanted but these meetings were rarely private (even after Jason got his own office) and never long—then again, they could never be long enough because Jason was loathe to say goodbye to Dick even for a moment. There was just too much to learn. Although, admittedly, they didn't always use their available time for the cultural exchange that Jason gave as the reason for these visits. You could argue they were strengthening their cultural relations, but not in any way that Jason could document without raising eyebrows and being accused of unethical practices.

Jason had scoffed at this. As if keeping Dick in confinement and away from his peers was that much more ethical. So maybe Jason was blurring lines he shouldn't, but at some point his perspective had shifted from scientific curiosity to... something else. He wasn't entirely sure what, but it entailed developing a conscience. Pesky things, those. Made continuing his work difficult, almost as much as the other research branches (that were more poking and prodding rather than the talk therapy of his own approach) applying for Dick's time and having it granted. In the beginning, it had been difficult to build up trust again after those sessions and Jason had to fight tooth and nail for prolonged, exclusive access to him in order to get somewhere with his research.

Now, he has all the exclusive access he ever wanted and more, but research is the last thing on his mind. It nestles in a place right alongside the awareness of what dangers a careless minute might bring. Being this close to Dick is not without its drawbacks. Already Jason's vision is flickering at the edges. Not that this has ever been a deterrent. But there's no one around to bring him back this time if he doesn't put a stop to it while he still can.

Dick moves out of the way as Jason gets rid of his own clothes, but he doesn't stop kissing him unless he must.

It reaffirms what Jason already knows: just like Dick, he's not going to put a stop to this unless there is absolutely, one hundred percent no way around it—he's waited entirely too long for this moment to let it go to waste—and by that time it might already be too late. He also knows he's being willfully stupid, but that's nothing new. It's how he's got himself into this whole mess in the first place, so he's merely keeping up the practice.

Jason hisses when Dick touches his cock, teasing the head and gently stroking it. He's glad its size no longer bears commenting; the first time Dick had seen it he'd been quite concerned with how shrunken and sad it had seemed to him. Not exactly how you'd want your sexual partner to react upon seeing a most vulnerable part of you. The massive blow to Jason's ego aside, it had prompted a crash course on regular human anatomy to reassure Dick (and himself) that he was, in fact, quite well-endowed. (Okay, maybe he'd overemphasized that last bit because he'd counted on Dick's sample size not growing beyond the one.)

It's nothing he has to worry about now, when all he wants is to enjoy the moment because who knows how long it will last. Experience has taught him they are fleeting and therefore to be treasured. He wouldn't put it past the guards to come barging through the door any minute now.

"This is how we mate," Jason slurs, tongue already affected by the toxin, as he angles his legs and guides Dick inside him. Above him, Dick whines and Jason wants to echo the sound but Dick shoves the breath right out of him.

Jason clings to him while he can.

.

Fleur-de-lis wallpaper flaking in patches, spiderwebs in the upper corners of the room, cracks in the ceiling. No wonder the lighting is so bad in here, hiding the flaws at the edges of the yellow light. Jason's vision is splintering, breaking into shards of rainbow colors: the marine blue of Dick's eyes, but also a fiery orange or a deep emerald green that's not present anywhere in the room. Or is it? Jason can't be sure anymore.

His senses are both dimming and sharpening, his skin a sea of numbness with patches in between where feeling remains and sparks like fireworks in contrast. His breathing is shallow, but the sensation of air rushing into his lungs is that much more pronounced than he is used to it. Soon, he won't be able to breathe at all.

Jason feels like a meal, like a sacrificial offering to this sea god that is feasting on him. Dick's sharp teeth are stained with Jason's blood, but the wound on Jason's shoulder that keeps breaking open doesn't even hurt anymore. Nothing hurts anymore. Dick's thick limb is just a faint wiggling pressure inside of him and even Jason's cock has lost all sensation— _that_ used to be the scariest part of fooling around with Dick, not the inability to breathe or his general defenselessness. There is something so emasculating about not being able to feel pleasure anymore that not even the phantom feeling of having a boner three times its actual size can compensate for.

Yet Dick has taught him the art of surrender, of letting go all that can no longer be in his control, of _accepting_ that it can no longer be in his control. He turns Jason into a sack of useless muscle and sinew that he can play with if he wants to. He doesn't need the strength of his limbs at all. Perhaps to subdue Jason if he were unwilling, but Jason has never more willingly submitted to anything else in his life.

He could die like this and is likely going to, and his only regret is that he couldn't take Dick home, back to his people. It's not a promise he has made to Dick, so no one can accuse him of breaking it, but it was one reason for breaking him out. Jason prefers to think of himself as heroic and self-sacrificing instead of selfish and horny, although he may be all of those things to a certain extent, some more than others. Who says you can't have everything? Underachievers, that's who. Not a target group Jason can identify with. He's always wanted more from life. Wanted to matter.

He used to think the way toward that goal was to make a name for himself in academic circles, but he soon found those weren't the kind of people he wanted to associate with, not all of them. What good is his fucking name on a paper published in a renowned journal if the research he presents is based on misery and deprivation? He hadn't wanted the lab job in the first place. He'd wanted to be out and about, studying critters in their natural habitat, not dissecting them far outside of it.

Well, that's over now. He can kiss his doctorate goodbye. He used to think that that would be the worst thing that could happen to him, because it meant ending back up on the street, and under a mountain of debt besides. He'd never crawl out of that one again.

Maybe it's Dick's neurotoxin that's addling his brain but he doesn't feel as fatalistic about his future anymore. If all he does in life is improve one creature's conditions and not make it worse for others, he can call himself accomplished.

As if Dick had sensed his thoughts, he kisses Jason again and Jason catches a faint taste of his own blood on his tongue. That much he can still do, even if the rest of his mouth is deadened to his touch. All he feels is pins and needles spreading from his nose and forehead over the rest of his skull.

His tongue is sitting like a damp cloth rag against the back of his throat. He should be letting Dick know that he's dangerously close to suffocating now. Not that he knows how to communicate that, since he can't move, can't speak, can hardly even breathe anymore. He's starting to lose consciousness when a shudder grips Dick and his limbs wind so dangerously tight around Jason that he's sure to snap something any second.

But he doesn't. He allows himself a moment to catch his breath, to brush Jason's hair out of his sweat-stained face and smile at him, to slowly pull back and release Jason from his embrace. 

Jason will never get tired of the smooching sound his suction cups make when they pull away from his skin, although he'd enjoy it a lot more if he could feel it, too. Whatever. He's had his fair share of it. No need to be greedy, so close to the end.

With his last shreds of awareness, Jason watches Dick struggle with his urge to gather Jason in his arms and cradle him. Any more skin-to-skin contact between them and he might paralyze Jason's diaphragm, if not his heart. Jason might not care so much about dying anymore, least of all if he went in Dick's arms, having been cuddled to death, so to speak. There are worse ways to go.

Dick compromises, swaddling Jason in a cocoon of blankets and curling around him, safely separated through layers of cloth as he massages feeling back into Jason's body. The friction is what gets to Jason first. He doesn't know if overheating is any better, but he'll just have to bear it and see. He's pretty sure the odds are in his favor.

.

Jason wakes alone, as if from a dream, staring up at the same fleur-de-lis wallpaper that no longer breaks apart into a kaleidoscope of colors. Feeling has returned to his fingertips, which gives the memories from earlier a dream-like quality. Except that with the return of his faculties, he's not only aware of the hickeys littering his skin, but also of how hollow he feels.

A shadow of heat scratches beneath the surface of his cheeks. Dick has excavated him good. He has never felt this open before, but he can't say he dislikes it. He might even try using his fist from now on.

The red alarm clock face on his bedside table reads half past three when Jason rolls himself out of bed with effort. There's no time to waste. He only has that many hours left with Dick and he intends to make use of them all as best he can.

He gets up on unsteady legs and stumbles from support to support until he makes it into the bathroom, where he finds Dick snoozing in the bathtub like a Nosferatu of the sea, submerged in water and sleeping with his hands folded atop his chest.

A part of Jason wonders if he should disturb him after the ordeal of the escape he went through, but his selfishness votes in favor. Time is awasting. So he settles onto the edge of the tub and splashes his hand around in the water.

It's enough to get Dick's attention, because his eyes snap open and he sits up so quickly Jason almost expects Dick to mistake him for prey. He certainly pounces on him like he didn't want to give Jason the chance to get away. Not that Jason could in his current state, even if he'd wanted to.

"Easy, I'm not going any—mmf."

Dick throws his arms around Jason and kisses him even as he's climbing out of the tub to crawl into Jason's lap. The force of it knocks Jason over and he crashes painfully onto the bathroom floor, water sloshing over the rim as Dick follows him.

"Hey," he groans, once he's sucked enough air back into his lungs to make a sound.

"Hey," Dick answers and peppers his face with more kisses. "You can move again."

"Not for long if you keep going like this."

"Oh," Dick says and slides off Jason so fast it all but looks like he's teleporting to the side. Or maybe Jason's perception is just that sluggish.

His gaze softens and he reaches out to squeeze Dick's hand in his. "I think I can handle a little just fine." By now, his body must have build up a certain resistance to Dick's toxin or else he would have died of cardiopulmonary failure already.

Dick smiles and scoots closer again, knocking his head against Jason's like an overenthusiastic cat and nuzzling the side of his face.

"Come on," Jason interrupts him. "As much as I love you snuggling up to me, let's get you dried up and into your clothes again. We gotta get moving."

Dick scrunches up his nose in distaste but says nothing. Jason is not sure how wise it is to be operating heavy machinery in his condition, but as long as they keep their hands to themselves, he should be fine. Which is easier said than done, of course. Especially since this is his last chance to memorize the feel of Dick.

It has to be enough. He knows it won't ever be, so he might as well call it quits now.

.

Several hours later, they're moving towards the approaching dawn in a motorboat Jason had borrowed from the nearest marina. Dick has stripped off his clothes again and is hanging off the railing, face turned up to the spray like the world's prettiest figurehead. It's enough to make a man cry, but if anyone accuses him of it, Jason will swear it's just the salt water that got into his eyes.

Jason feels like he's approaching the end of his rope. It's taken him months to work out the escape plan, carefully scouting the best route out of the facility, learning the placement and angles of the security cameras, the schedule of the guards, when their shifts ended and how long the exchanges usually took, at what time the other scientists started their work and when they retired.

Never in all of his meticulous planning had he spared any thought of what he might do once they got out—it had seemed too far away, too improbable to reach in the first place, so why bother going into details there? He had to get the first part right, anything after that he could figure out as they went.

And so he did. But now, he feels like he's floundering.

According to the records, Dick had been captured several hundred leagues to the south by a seafarer named Wilson, who almost didn't want to hand him over to his contractor, Dr. Strange, Jason's boss. The creature, as the report said, was just too precious and he had a mind of mounting it for himself. That was before it attacked his first mate, Wintergreen, and his son, Joseph, nearly costing them their lives. Wilson had already lost one son to the sea and he wouldn't lose another. As much as he wanted to see the creature dead, he preferred to cash in the bounty. Perhaps he thought that death was too good for it and a life in captivity would be a fitting punishment for rendering his remaining son mute.

Knowing that Dick is capable of such violence should perhaps have made Jason pause in pursuing anything with him—but he'd been confronted with it himself on day one, before he'd ever read up on Dick, and it hadn't stopped him from trying to bridge their cultural differences. _It might all just be a misunderstanding,_ he kept telling himself, green behind the ears as he had been.

He never wanted to assume, never wanted his own upbringing to color his interactions with other species, and in a way, it's what got him into this mess. Without a job, without a home, and soon without the only creature he ever cared about.

He's not entirely sure of what to do. Should he bring Dick as close to his former home as their current mode of transportation allowed or should he say goodbye to him here? Perhaps Dick can find his way from here and it's cruel for Jason to keep him.

Then again, they're out here on the ocean, they're free, and if Dick had wanted to he could have vanished into the waves already. But he didn't. That fact alone made Jason's heart ache.

He stopped the motor when the fuel gauge indicated the tank was about halfway empty. He still had to make it back somehow, but if Dick couldn't find his way from here, Jason would make it work somehow, would escort him right up to his metaphorical doorstep if need be. It's not like he's got anything else to do in the foreseeable future.

Before the boat even stops propelling them forwards, Dick jumps overboard. He keeps up easily and pokes his head above the water once the boat has slowed, the excitement on his face unmistakable.

"Think you can find your way back from here?" Jason asks, leaning against the railing as nonchalantly as possible. He's trying not to let his emotions show, but it's difficult. They're sitting hard in his throat, making it difficult to speak at all.

"I think so," Dick says, diving under for a second before leaping out of the water again to grab the railing and pulling himself up to be face to face with Jason. "What about you? Aren't you coming?"

"Me? No." Of all the things that Dick could have said, this one probably took Jason by surprise the most.

Dick looks concerned for a second. "What about your eggs? Where are you going to lay them? I was hoping to help you hatch them."

"My _eggs?"_

"We mated," Dick says, then lowers himself as if to hide his face behind the railing, suddenly more self-conscious than Jason has ever seen him before. "Or do you not want to fertilize your eggs with my sperm?"

"There won't be any eggs," Jason nearly shouts. At least he hopes there won't be. He hasn't really been able to study the mating habits of Dick's species, lacking a female and all that. Nor does he know anything about cross-species fertilization. Fuck. Jason is pretty certain nothing is going to happen, since Dick just assumes Jason cancarry eggs, but this reasoning doesn't stop the line of supposition from being any less scary. Cultural and biological differences aside, Jason isn't ready to be saddled with offspring, whether it is Dick's or not. _Jesus._

A complicated expression twists Dick's face and Jason can't tell if it is confusion, disappointment, or relief. Or possibly a combination of all three. "I wanted to take care of you. Like you took care of me, inside."

Jason exhales a surprised laugh. "That's okay. I can take care of myself." Did Dick's conspecifics form family bonds this quickly? Jason still has so many questions.

"But where will you go?"

"I don't really know yet."

He might drive along the coast until the tank is empty, then make his way inland, trying to stay off the radar while simultaneously trying to make a living on the street. Alternately, he could give himself up and go to prison for the rest of his life for freeing Dick. Can't be much worse than being cooped up in the lab all the time, even if he winds up somewhere he doesn't get time in the yard.

That probably means he has options. Between bad and worse, but options all the same.

"Come with me," Dick interrupts Jason's grand vision of the future.

"What?"

"I don't care if we have young together. Come with me."

The entire script that Jason has been laying out for his life from here on out suddenly turns on its head. Come with Dick? "Come with you where?"

"Home."

"I thought you might have noticed by now, but I still can't breathe underwater."

"There are islands not far from my home. You could live there. And I could visit every day."

Something twists up in Jason's chest. Dick has said nothing about the food or shelter situation and yet Jason is considering it. If he's prepared to live on the street again, he might as well live on an island, even if there are fewer people whose pockets to pick, or to beg from. Maybe there is honest labor to be found. If there are locals in the first place. Jason is getting ahead of himself. Dick has not mentioned the size of these islands. Dick has not mentioned anything much at all.

Not that it matters. Jason had thrown caution to the wind the moment he first got into Dick's tank. Maybe even before.

"Would you show me your home and how you live there?" Jason asks, the excitement of discovery fluttering in his veins.

"Of course," Dick beams brighter than the morning sun. "Anything."

Jason feels like he needs a moment to sit. He'd thought his life would be over the moment he ran away with Dick. He'd been prepared for that. And yet, here Dick offers him not only another chance at life, but the opportunity to study him in his natural environment, the very thing he's wanted to do before he ever signed up for the job at the lab.

Jason could kiss Dick for this. In fact, he does. He bends over the railing and pulls this beautiful creature back into his arms. Dick laughs and winds his arms around Jason, all eight of them, before kissing him back. It doesn't matter how toxic Dick is to him or how far they are from the next hospital that could revive Jason if it came down to it. Jason hadn't needed medical assistance yesterday and they'd pushed his system further than they ever had before, barring the first time that Jason nearly drowned. Or did drown, to hear some tell it.

That's all in the past now. No longer interesting. What matters is what lies ahead, and he is already racing to prepare "shopping lists" of the equipment he'll need for his upcoming deep sea adventures.

They can't come too soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Omega" by Stone Sour.
> 
> Originally, I meant to write several more scenes to add between the bits presented here, all of which take place before this. (Well, originally, I've tried writing several different beginnings until I settled on this one.) But, since I wanted to post this during MerMay, I didn't have enough time to finish all of them. So if I'm going to write those prequel parts, you can probably expect another new series from me.


End file.
